


How's about we swap ideas?

by BatsuGames



Series: Malkavian Web of Vines [2]
Category: Vampire: The Masquerade, Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines (Video Game)
Genre: Assyrian and Mesopotamia historical mentions, Banter, Being a Camarilla and then Auterkis, Caine might like them if they continue in this path, Character Turned Into Vampire, F/M, Fighting, Gen, Hallucinations, History, Liking the unfortunate main character, Male-Female Friendship, Malkavian (Vampire: The Masquerade), Romance, Teasing, Turning into wolves, Vampire Disciplines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-04-05 07:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19043830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatsuGames/pseuds/BatsuGames
Summary: After fighting off kindred when her brother was killed, Ivy's on the run... and caught to be sentenced.Only for Jeanette to want her as her child.Being a Malkie is a ride, one of the few she rather liked.





	How's about we swap ideas?

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for usual violence of this game... but not much else. 
> 
> Just some ideas.
> 
> Enjoy some romantic/sexual tension.
> 
> (A one-shot. Not the longer fic mentioned in my previous fic.)

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

Ivy grinned at she outwitted yet another pair of vampires, leaving them to dust as she sprinted away in the morning light.

 

Honestly, didn’t these kindred have some sort of inner clock?

 

Shaking her head, she found her little hidey-hole in a damaged part of the sewers and winced at the large scratch down her side that throbbed and ached, ripping some of her muscle. With a wince she washed it out with alcohol and did butterfly stitches, hoping for the best for now, too tired to go to the hospital; and too paranoid as well. She knew there was a blood bank below it, so obviously someone kept an eye _on_ that and thus could access her. She relaxed for a moment, making sure that her weapons hidden on her body were still there. Hm, one got lost. She slid a new thin blade in her gloves, running a hand up the reinforced metal arm and wrist guards. She daren’t take them off.

 

Her life was, well, it was doomed.

 

If she could live to see another few sunrises while escaping the horde of vampires on her tail, she’d be pleased.

 

Funds, food and fortune was running out for her.

 

She slumped onto her sleeping bag and conked out.

 

.

 

A slap to Ivy’s face woke her up, she was grunted, as it was hard enough to snap her out of sleep but not enough to clear the fog form her head.

 

Drugs.

 

Sedatives?

 

Her head dropped.

 

Bastards.

 

With a wince and hidden behind long hair, she cut her cheek by biting too hard, and a little bit of plastic with a tiny tablet in it was crunched in her mouth. It was the right side, so this was the drug that would hype her up, ultra-focus her for a short time. The left side held a cyanide tablet, in case she could see no way out. She’d found someone to implant them a week ago for quite the valuable price, so it wasn’t hard to rip open fresh-enough wounds.

 

Her auburn hair was grabbed harshly, and her head pulled back to face the crowds.

 

Her eyes swept around, noting the slight pallid tint to all their faces, no matter their skin colour. Kindred, eh? A rueful smile lilted her lips. Perhaps it would have been best to take the cyanide one over the Hype drug. Goodness knows what they’d do to her. She looked up with a snap of her head back at the vampire, noting the good clothes he was in and the perhaps too heavy cologne he wore. Easily tracked. Good. It’s then she looked to the other two on the stage. Some handsome blonde man talking to the crowd with linguistic prose that was almost purple, and the biggest fuck-off male she’d seen wielding a humungous sword straight out of Final Fantasy.

 

Curiously, she took in all the vampires around her. So many kinds… She looked at intrigue at the more Nosferatu looking man in a suit, who smirked at her and for funsies, she winked back and waggled her brows, only making his smirk widen to something more amused. Her eyes trailed along the group, noting some woman simply in lingerie (damn that was some confidence) and some dude in a red trench coat, she guessed, with orange glasses. She tilted her head at him and he nodded back regally, making her lip twitch. Her eyes traced along the people, and finally laid on some woman in a schoolgirl outfit.

 

It made her remember her own school days with a bit of whimsy, before she cocked her head at something blondie said.

 

Ivy turned to the leader here. “I’m not a vampire hunter.”

 

Blue faded eyes locked onto her. “I beg your pardon?”

 

“I’ve never hunted a vampire a day in my life,” Ivy continued easily. “Never really cared about you lot.”

 

“Your last words are to be lies, Miss Montgomery?”

 

“Do you know why I even killed vampires in the first place?”

 

“Tell us the riveting tale.”

 

“Alright, since your tone suggests you seem not to have time, a curious thing for an undead by the way,” That got a snort from a few people, “I’ll hasten my pace. Had a good evening out meeting up with my brother, hadn’t seen him in a year, which yes, mortal time it’s quite the while.”

 

Sebastian’s arms crossed. “Indeed,” he drawled out, obviously not caring.

 

“Ha! You’re a sassy bastard, I like you, blondie,” Ivy replied brightly, chortling, the distraction helping her to bring out a blade from her gloves to begin cutting the rope binding her wrists. “After a fantastic meal, and if you could eat I’d really suggest that French place we were at; magnificent wines, think I got one in my bag, even. Anyway, forgot my phone, came back, found he was being attack by a group of kindred gone mad. I got rabid from fury and killed them. And so, as you can imagine, began a nice ping pong game. I killed them for killing my brother, so some others came for me for killing them and so on and so forth for the last three months.”

 

“The report suggest you kill over eighty vampires. You expect me to believe a non-hunter could do as such?” The man said sceptically, arm dropping so it could wave away the words as if they were lies.

 

“Excuse me, your report is bullshit against my capabilities as I counted and that was one-hundred and twenty-nine kindred I took out,” Ivy retorted. “I’m an excellent fighter.”

 

“Kindred, so you know terms for us?”

 

“Hard not to when being hunted and in hiding to attack back, they liked to blab about their might. Hubris is as hubris does. Guessing they’re young enough to be smug about their rather lacklustre abilities, or their prideful that no, what was it? Kin? Kine?”

 

“Kine,” The man answered, watching her with a frown.

 

“Kine, thank you,” Ivy nodded at him, minding her manners, and getting a tiny nod back. “Yes, older and overestimating themselves and underestimating kine. I got by on surprise a lot of the time. As I said. Hubris. A lesson, I hope.”

 

“Hope?”

 

“I’ve never cared there were kindred since I found out. I only cared about massacring the ones that killed my brother.” And the only way she’d actually kept on surviving was accidentally ingesting dust on kindred and noting how it acted as a sort of, well, mana potion. Her body had improved, faster, stronger more able to take damage, with every gulp of dust. At first, she hated doing it, but now she couldn’t wait for the next one dead, because the final death fire, though it burnt on the way down, enhanced her so much she couldn’t go back. She wasn’t a ghoul while getting the bonuses of one that had long been on the blood.

 

It was a small form of diablerization.

 

It was the only thing that kept her alive those first few times.

 

“How quaint.”

 

She smiled with it reaching her eyes, looking him up and down with the slightest of distaste and turning away with just as shallow, “Hm, yes. Loyalty. Who’d have it?” It’s then her phone went, and the whole theatre went quiet. She shrugged, grabbing her phone from her pocket, dodging the grab for her from the one that had her on her knees by twirling around as she answered the phone. “Hello, love! Might bit busy right now.” She ducked the swipe at her, slamming a knee into his gut that doubled him over. “Send my love to the fam and for god sake just ask John out already, you know he’s been pining for you for years. Anyway, love you muchly, speak soon!” She took a slim blade out from under her belt and cut the kindred half way through his neck, sticking her tongue out.

 

The vampire went to his final death as she put her phone away, dust landing on her tongue. Her blood boiled as her stomach wound healed up when she swallowed the powder.

 

“You-!”

 

“Now you can see how easily I took on kindred, no? Oh, and I do believe that’s one-hundred and thirty. Good round number, I like it. But, if I’m about to die. How about some entertainment for the crowd? I wanna take on Tiny next to you.”

 

“Ti-” Sebastian turned to his nagloper Sheriff incredulously as he cut himself off before realising the woman had gone to her bag at the side and was taking out a bottle of what was an expensive red that he himself had in his special wine cellar. Disbelieving the gall of this woman simply uncorking the wine, he took more offence at her not allowing it to aerate for best taste. Such a good wine. “You wish to fight my sheriff?”

 

Ivy necked some of the wine. She hummed as she swallowed. “This is some damn good wine.” She looked to the side noting some dude in just some sort of denim waistcoat thing and a beard, grinning at her, totally enjoying the show. She lifted the bottle his way, uncaring about attention when she was about to die. It had him laughing in a wheezy manner, lifting his cigarette at her.

 

It's then she swirled around the big guy coming at her with his sword, chucking the bottle to Sebastian, who actually caught it, not about to waste a bottle of such high quality. Several more dodges from around his sword as she took out small throwing knives as, with no way to have him dodge when he was so close, she flung it up hard and fast, snagging him in the eye. He howled when she twisted the blade and then jumped away as he swung his massive blade around. Ending up next to Sebastian, she grabbed the bottle, gulping down drink hard and fast and shoving it back into his hold, half full.

 

“Montgomery!” Sebastian snapped out, almost getting red wine on his suit.

 

“Suck it up, Prince. You-shit!” She shoved him away and pushed off from the stage as an enraged Sheriff went for her blade just out of shot of getting them both. She landed next to school-girl, only to suck in a breath when the nagloper went for her and would get them both. Noting schoolgirl whimpered, unable to move, Ivy grit her teeth, knowing she’d likely pull a muscle or five with this but grabbed the woman under her thighs and back, and forcing her mind to drag the extra power from the dust, jumped into a backflip. She grunted at landing roughly and painfully on the back of a seat on her bum, but tossed the woman to a seat, ignoring her squeak.

 

The beast in human skin went for a down ward slash, but a fast side step followed by a roll when his blade followed had her at his back, stabbing him repeatedly as she climbed up his back. She managed to shunt a blade into his neck, sweat dripping down her forehead and stinging her eye. Yet her grabbed her and flung her over his shoulder, slamming her in an aisle before a group of three people, two hefty looking men and a woman with blood red hair. Turning to them she choked out, “Move!” Before her enemy jumped up high to come in for an attack, a dark purple aura around him.

 

“I WANT HER!”

 

Ivy dodged to the schoolgirl as the kindred slammed down, wrecking about eight seats as the previous three beat a hasty retreat. “Shut up and move it!”

 

But the ponytailed woman continued, going up on stage in a run as Ivy dodged more hits, snarling at the blade hitting her finally, “I want her! Let her be one of us, you’ve seen her talents! Or must I remind you of the bang bang, baby?” She muttered low for him. Yet not too low that some didn’t hear it.

 

Sebastian seemed to stiffen at that, sneering at the woman before him, hissing out so only she could hear, “Fine, but never speak of any of this bang-bang foolishness again.” He spoke up loudly to his bodyguard. “Sheriff! Come back! You! You shall live.”

 

Ivy breathed hard, body shaking from adrenaline. “Wh-what? I-” Her eyes darted around.

 

But then the schoolgirl hugged her. “You can be my childe, okay fire-cat?”

 

“Fire-Ng!” Fangs dived into her neck, her eyes widening. Pure fire-like lusciousness swept through her, painting her every inside in gorgeous golden tones. But then a sort of needling went up into her brain, as if some sort of lobotomy was being performed, as if she was being pierced by a long piece of metal. It seemed to flood her brain, bolting through her left eye, cracking her mind open as she saw lines of energy around her.

 

And break it.

 

She screeched in pain, making her kick out and struggle but her body was half drained and she was so weak, in so much pain. It did nothing to the groaning woman who simply stuffed the bottle in her mouth and Ivy felt a command for her to drink. So she did, being instantly drunk on the red wine, of delighting the warming feel of someone turned on by this, of the feeling of blood sweeping into her mouth after the bottle was tugged out of her gulping mouth. She grabbed on in a sudden burst of strength, of the dust still circulating her from previous eating of kindred’s final death, of the wrist trying to be pulled out.

 

But Ivy kept on drinking until she could drink no more, drags only left in the body feeding her. Ivy watched without seeing as the body before her dissolved.

 

“Diablerie!” Someone shrieked.

 

“One-three-one. Heh. Oh, hungry. Still.” She was brought to her knees on the stage once more. Her whole body cramped. “Hungry! HUNGRY!”

 

She twitched as voices whispered in her ear. _Eat now when you can!_

 

_Sins!_

 

Blood bags were brought to her and she drained them until well once more.

 

“One Malkavian for another. Alastair. Take her and teach her.” Sebastian commanded. “I’m sure we’ve all had _quite_ the entertainment.”

 

.

 

Her eyes snapped open, and the overwhelming need to punch something came over her.

 

She sat up on the bed, taking in the rather… fifties looking room. And Christ, was that a phonograph? Checker floors like a chessboard, deep rich red walls black furniture; it was an antiquated room. Huge, with tall ceilings. Leaving the four poster bed, just as impressively austere as the rest of the room, she noted her nightdress with a grimace as it flared around her ankles. What monstrosity was this piece of fabric? So frilly and lacy and purest of whites. And she seemed to have been cleaned. A shake of the head and she went in search of clothing. There were drawers of things, and her brows raised approvingly at the lingerie. No normal bras and knickers here… These matched, were of high quality and came with, stockings, garters and corsets.

 

Pleased by this finding at least, she took a beautiful black and red set, looking at herself in the mirror. It was something like what the one woman at the theatre wore, except she liked to think hers was slightly more elegant rather than raunchy.

 

Still, she lifted a leg to set it upon some sort of low seat and tugged up the stocking a bit more so it matched the other side.

 

The door was knocked on and, without even a by-your-leave, was opened.

 

The two men stilled for a moment as they took her in. “Do you mind?” She asked in an irritated tone, standing up properly and crossing her arms. “Not even asking if I’m decent?”

 

The regal looking man coughed into his fist while Sebastian just took her in, looking calmer than before, and – slightly appreciative? Bastard. Whatever. “Apologies, Miss Montgomery. We shall give you a moment to dress.” He waved at the large wardrobe and the two left, door closing quietly behind them.

 

Swiftly going over to the wardrobe, she opened it up, noting the dresses, blouses, skirts and shoes at the bottom all in an older style. She guessed it was that man in a three piece and frock coat that put this together. Grabbing the least fussy looking satin-feeling blouse in a sapphire blue, she pulled it on and buttoned it up as she eyed the skirts – noting no trousers at all, only long skirts. Grimacing at the lengths going to her ankles and starting rather high up on her waist, she grabbed the shortest black A-line skirt that flirtingly flared around her knees and pulled it on, grabbing some Victorian looking heeled boots and lacing them up. Surprisingly sturdy.

 

It was a far cry from her sports bra and cotton knickers, plaid skirt of her Scottish Clan of MacDonald, spar shoes and crappy t-shirt and hoodie. Speaking of, where was her bag? She might not have much, but it housed the last things of her previous life.

 

She went to the mirror, noting how much nicer her hair and skin were, faultless even. Still, the mane did need a brush, and there was a vanity over yonder. “Gents, you can come in now,” She called, going over to it.

 

Only to stare at her face in the mirror.

 

More importantly, her now red eyes. Not just a dull red, or warm cinnamon brown-red like her hair, but a lighter lusher red of freshly spilt blood.

 

They’d been blue, the brightest of blue, the one thing she’d secretly loved about herself.

 

Gods.

 

How the hell did she not see it straight away?

 

With the door swinging open, she let her shaky hands open up drawers and found new make-up. Something to do to show nonchalance and that she wasn’t affected. Because she was, they probably knew it, but the pretence counted damnit. Taking out some eyeliner in a blue close to her blouse, she swiftly applied it as the door closed. “Good evening.”

 

“Again, my apologies for the intrusion halfway through cladding yourself.” Alistair then asked as she did the second eye. “May I introduce myself?”

 

With that, Ivy stood up, putting the pen down and turned, liking that her skirt whirled around her a little at the speed she moved. She came over and as spoke, “Please do.”

 

“I am the Malkavian Primogen, Alistair Grout, I am to be your tutor in the ways of the childer of Malkav. This is your room.”

 

“Ivy Montgomery, a pleasure to meet you.” She held her hand out.

 

He took her hand and instead of shaking it, kissed the back of it, with Ivy slightly narrowing her eyes at him, tilting her head. “How do you do?”

 

“How do you do,” She murmured back, and then her eyes slid to the Prince. “To you as well, Prince, Sebastian, was it?”

 

“Yes, Sebastian LaCroix.”

 

Ivy took him in for a second, taking in the slight hint of an accent. “I don’t speak nor am French, but I thought it was pronounced differently? You say Croy, not Croi?”

 

Sebastian acknowledged her at that. “It is the latter, but most seem not to care. Anglicized as ‘Croy’ is, that has been fine with me for decades now.”

 

“What would you prefer me to say, Prince?”

 

“The French way.”

 

“French way it is.” Ivy nodded and then looked between both of them. “So, I’m kindred now. Am I to get some sort of… orientation?”

 

“Primogen Alastair can aid you with the understanding of your Clan and the Camarilla and other factions, as well as other facets of kindred living and our laws.” Sebastian waved away. “I have come here to offer you a job. You see, the one you called Tiny, he was rather my personal bodyguard. While he is not dead, he is permanently half-blinded and still healing. Sheriff will need to have a partner, another Sheriff, while he is healing.” He raised a brow at her.

 

Ivy grinned at that. “I asked for a fight. He came to me as I recall. That’s on him. Can’t wait to fight him again.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

“How long will it take for him to heal?”

 

“Two weeks at most. What I offer is for you two test is for these two weeks as you come to grips with your new life, and then a deal for it to perhaps become permanent if we both like you in this position.”

 

“Two weeks? Sure thing, Prince.”

 

“Excellent.”

 

.

 

With that, two weeks went by quickly. Ivy scoped out the world of kindred as best she could, getting over uncomfortable truths for kindred and their feeding habits and sleeping habits, and took in LA as much as possible. It was this last night that she spied with her little eyes a wolf prowling around some warehouse and watching that new kindred blow up the Sabbat hideout.

 

She liked him, the new Brujah kid, bright eyed and bushy tailed, wanting someone to hold onto because he was impossibly lost in this world. It would only bring him trouble if he let it continue. But he had this _spark_ about him. So Ivy wanted to watch over him and make sure he was well, and it helped that when she suggested such a thing, Sebastian agreed in the interest of keeping his name well and properly respected. So here she was, intently listening in on the conversation, letting her Malk ability with the mind arts keep her hidden. The Malk ability she had was hallucinations instead of any intense whispering, and her madness as she found out Malk’s had was the need to always hide when she could either from others or things from others.

 

Therefore, she rather wasn’t very happy to have her newbie little Kindred so open to others.

 

She’d weirdly locked onto him as hers until he could safely navigate this world as she was able to. She did have a few months on him from outrunning the kindred after her.

 

Then when he left, the wolf instead of running in a path, looped back to her, nosing around where she was. With a playful grin, she dropped the hallucination with a, “BOO!” making the wolf yelp and jerk back, ears back. She cackled for a moment, earning herself a growl and the man turning back into his humanoid form. “Your reaction was priceless!” She stood up on the roof with him, smiling happily at the moment. “That was good. Beckett, eh?”

 

In return, she just got a raised brow.

 

“It was just a prank, darling Beckett, nothing more malignant than that,” Ivy teased. “Just looking over my boy Spark down there.” She nodded the way they were just speaking.

 

“Indeed. Well, I wish you well, kindred.” He turned after a nod.

 

She could feel his energy moving in him at such close range. “Ah, wait, wait! How’d you know I was here? I could have sworn I blocked that. Sight, hearing, scent!”

 

He smirked at her. “Temperature detection.”

 

“ _Really?_ ” She asked in exasperation. “Thermal-!”

 

“Oh yes. And the scent of blood from the bag.” He pointed at the previous two bloodbags she’d drank from in wait for Sparks to come out that came out after she’d cast her blood.

 

Ivy pouted to herself, annoyed. “How frustrating. Finicky bloody hallucinations.” She grabbed the two bags with a bit more annoyance in her swipe than necessary and shoved them in her bag to dispose of later. “Thank you, Beckett, I’m still pretty green myself. Your help is apprecia-” She saw him turn into a wolf and with assessing eyes, saw how his energy moved and without a care, plucked him up, feeling the wriggling body and locking that in her mind. Without a by your leave, she dropped him, jumping back at his snap at her. “Let’s see if I can…”

 

Her blood dipped as she focused on the energy movement in her, taking her form over, the feel of the beasts’ body, how it would move. She let her hallucination powers work on herself, making her mind accept the form as if it always had. It was the strangest feeling to feel her body shift, her balance change up, fur to keep her warm. She stumbled about, could feel the change back from her lack of concentration, but then before the energy could release locked on once more.

 

Ivy looked down at her smaller but no less wolfy version, russet fur the same colour as her normal hair. Curiously, ignoring Beckett who changed back, she took a few steps, finding it easy to move about on the roof. Without preamble, she laughed as she jumped down and it came out as a huffing sound. She paid no mind to a following Beckett, jumping off the platform to the ground, and then jumping back with only her wolf form. So this was how high her wolf could go normally. She added blood to her muscles, grimacing at too much, but then jumped – finding it far too much blood and it needed much more control. Her claws tried to grasp the roof but she fell.

 

Beckett caught her with a chuckle as she turned to human again with a, “Could be better.”

 

And promptly dropped her.

 

A yelp and she turned to wolf, twisting to land on all fours. An irritated huff up at him and she twined around his legs, shoving against his knees and then pushing through, only to reach up and knock him back. Instantly she was back in human form and perched on his stomach with her torso over him, eyes narrowed. “How rude! I was merely trying to thank you.” She didn’t care about the eyes taking her décolletage in from the few unbuttoned notches on her blouse, but she did manage to scoff and get up, pretending not to see how her hair scented with her vanilla and honey shampoo flickered over his face.

 

Or how his nose followed.

 

Ivy held a hand out and the Gangrel took it, getting perhaps a bit too close when standing. “Until next time.” She had a Brujah to catch up to. The woman left, losing Beckett as much as she could.

 

But she seemed to have caught his interest.

 

.

 

Red eyes took in the scene of Nines and Sparks.

 

He seemed to quite like the fellow Brujah, though Nines was busy with more anarch fights than usual tonight.

 

With a hum, Ivy left, going via the sewers as a wolf to hurry up to the Ventrue Tower.

 

Reappearing around the back of the Tower, she went in, winking at Chunk and getting the go ahead.

 

Sebastian looked up. “Ah, Miss Montgomery.”

 

She came up to the desk. “Evening, Prince. So, our darling new Brujah completed his task, using quite the bit of stealth for one of his Clan.” She didn’t tell him about how nervous the lad was, or about the astrolite. “It went off without a hitch. Had a bit of a meeting with Sabbat but Nines got him out of it. Too far to hear anything, but it seemed amicable. Nothing more or less.”

 

“Amicable?”

 

“Well, he would have died otherwise without Nines, so yes, amicable to the one who saved his tuckus twice.”

 

Sebastian narrowed his eyes into a slight glare. “My clemency is not to be overlooked.”

 

Ivy shook her head and replied, “It isn’t. Nines just got there first, hm? Especially when it looked like he was about to face his death for the disrespect from another against you when he had no way of knowing of kindred. I point out only facts and viewpoints, Prince.” She added when he seemed angry at that. “He’s got less reason to die for his transgressions against kindred than I had. It was a rubbish, unfair position he was put in.”

 

“You tell me what I already know?”

 

“Sometimes it’s good for things to get refreshed,” Ivy smiled, too much in a good mood with learning how to do a new amazing technique to feel threatened. “He’s young, but the knowledge in the end it was you that chose to keep him alive, even if for politics sake, may go from his mind rather quickly in the face of fellow Clan members offering to take him in.”

 

“Hmph,” Sebastian leaned back in his chair, elbows on chair arms and he steepled his fingers. “Why would losing a fledgling to them be of any great consequence?”

 

“The Prince can’t even keep some fledgling on his side after sparing his life? Why’s he Prince again? Who else could be swayed from you? What kind of message does that send, you know?”

 

“Advisory words?” The blond watched her.

 

Ivy gave a lazy shrug. “Eh, Grout said it’s what used to happen. Malks advised to Ventrue. Figure I’d give it a shot.”

 

Sebastian gave nothing away. “I see.”

 

“One month. I’ll stay one month if you’ll have me for that amount of time. I’m no good in a room, I prefer tracking.”

 

.

 

Ivy laughed as Alfred grinned at her, the new Brujah becoming fond of her quickly over the next week after finding out she was just as new as him and they both worked for the Camarilla.

 

“C’mon let’s go feed!”

 

Alfred had easily adjusted to this life, pulling her through the crowds of Asp Hole. When some guy tried to tug her out his hold, he simply shoved the guy hard and picked her up, carrying her with one hand. He quickly picked up her tips for feeding, little tricks she’d learnt to draw the target to them, using some blood-buff to do so. Not realising that Clan’s usually kept things to themselves. He’d begun teaching her Potence and Celerity. Frankly, Ivy loved it as it worked so damn well with her martial arts. In return, she taught him some animal transformation. He was next to useless at it, much more a tinkerer of cars and computers in life and neither of them were much for academics. So mix physicality over book smarts and neither were really good at teaching or learning.

 

But at least he’d gained the ability to change his nose or ears to a wolf set, which was useful in tracking. He was super pleased about that, laughing off her worry that she’d not taught him enough when he’d shown her his disciplines. It’s then he showed her his ability with computers _and_ their languages and she gawked. Then with cars, which had her eyebrows raising when he’d hotwired and stolen a car just so they could go on a joyride. He didn’t need her abilities.

 

Then he saw her go invisible and promptly changed his mind.

 

With glee at his pleading to know, they were on equal levels on exchange and she was pleased.

 

The two had become friends and allies quickly.

 

.

 

The red eyed woman stared at the Mansion she’d arrived at, feeling a bit hollow inside now the closest Malkavian on the Network had died.

 

To be quite honest, Ivy didn’t quite care that Grout’s place had burnt down. Having lived there with his experiments, she was glad to simply have taken all her things and left to live in Skyline apartments, courtesy of Sebastian LaCroix and Ventrue Towers while being a client he hired often to check things out. The Prince seemed pleased she’d done so, which had her suspicious, but frankly, she was so much happier away from the madness of Grout. The place had been horrific when she’d found the prisoners, and that their Kindred Law said nothing against it.

 

But she didn’t like he’d died; and in such a suspicious manner, too. As the only other Malkavian in Los Angeles, she suddenly felt quite alone, and a little bit vengeful.

 

What’s hers was hers, even if she didn’t like what it was.

 

.

 

Ivy slunk into the museum, taking pictures of the Sarcophagus on a small digital camera. Slipping past guards under an obfuscation (thanks Alastair) was easy, and finding it down in the cargo hold after making a guard hallucinate he was talking to another guard that was forgetful was just as easy. She eyed the piece, feeling nothing from her Malkavian instincts whispering at her.

 

While she barely got any murmurs in the first, there was always more when with another Malkavian in the radius around her, the Network empowering the other.

 

Yet, if there was something strongly felt, such as the time or two around LaCroix and the voices not being so very happy, then they’d belt out and ring in her ears words of warning or wisdom.

 

Nothing.

 

Until she wondered if she should open it.

 

Then warnings came, fast and loud.

 

So… not harmful until opened?

 

Good enough for her.

 

She went to the box on the table where investigation tools were, and found a large… cylinder thing? It was the same material as the coffin. She plucked it up, bringing it over. Ah, it was a key for it. She shoved it into her large backpack, putting it back on and then grabbing the box the key had been in and taking it out the room, tossing it behind a big box not easily pushed aside for kine. More pictures shot, until a noise after being here for only a few minutes and she felt the energy of kindred and waited to the side against the wall to see if they were friend or foe, camera away and hands going to blades.

 

Four Nosferatu came in and paused on sighting her.

 

“LaCroix’s girl.”

 

Ivy grimaced at that as she shifted away from the wall, putting her blades away and bringing her camera back out. “Ugh, what a title. Seriously. Thanks, I hate it. So, I’m guessing you’re not here on Camarilla’s orders.” Because if it had been a Camarilla order, LaCroix would have already asked her to acquire it for him. In fact, having her go get this while Sparks would go to the Mansion to find out why Grout had not been coming to meetings would have been rather efficient. Or the other way around would be even better. How strange, then, that this had not happened and that these Nosferatu were here. She took another photo of it.

 

And that was that. Let them have it.

 

“Alright, go ahead. Have at it.” She waved them away to it and went over to the desk seeing files and folders about it. There was nothing for a while, and then the four went about their business quickly as Ivy sat down facing them. She wasn’t about to turn her back on them. She eyed one getting too close that wanted to see what she had. Her blade came out quicker than the Nosferatu could blink. “Back the fuck up. You got enough with the Sarcophagus, you’re not having the rest of the file work. Take a hike.”

 

Wisely, the Nosferatu went. The door closed, and Ivy went back to reading.

 

It wasn’t long before number five came in as she was putting feet on the edge of the oaken desk, chair on its back legs and slowly swaying back and forth with her nose buried in a paper from Doctor Anders Johansen. She’d never much been one for reading, or essays, but she’d always really liked mythology. Her dad used to tell her Chinese tales in the dojo he owned growing up, of the different dragons, of the Jade Emperor, of the zodiac animal race. This was just a slightly different version. She peeked up, seeing the wolf man look her over, tilting his head at her bared thighs and the tops of her stockings and just about the lower part of her knickers.

 

“Miss Montgomery. What a _pleasure_ to see you.”

 

She snickered, sitting properly and getting up, hugging the file to her. “I bet it was.”

 

“Who’s to say it still isn’t?” He murmured back in the quiet room.

 

Her brows rose. “Quite the statement. Are you trying to intrigue me?”

 

“Depends on if it’s working or not.”

 

She tapped a finger to her chin. “I see. So if it works, yes, if not, no. So in the end, not really caring but if you can take advantage you’ll do so. Hm.” She wasn’t really impressed by that, looking away with a shrug.

 

But then guest number six came in, all bright green eyed and fluffy wavy blond hair. “Beckett! How are- Oh, hey, Ivy!” He brightened up, coming around to pluck her up and give her a hug. “You were here for the Sarcophagus, too?” He changed his hold of her to a bridal one, used to simply picking her up when he wanted after a few weeks of knowing her.

 

“Yeah. Gone already though, obviously. You off to see the Prince?” She slid from his hold, peering up at him.

 

“He’s gotta know it’s been taken, yeah. Want a lift?”

 

Ivy shook her head. “Nah. I’ll go check what else is going to be part of the exhibition with the Ankaran Sarcophagus. Might have something of the same age range in the tomb, could help me figure out about the time frame and such related crap. If I find anything I’ll pop in to the Prince. If not, I’ll call you out for a nibble, yeah?”

 

“You got it girly.” Sparks grinned at her, holding out his fist, which she bumped. “By the way, worked on the obfuscate you taught me. Have a look babe!” He disappeared, and said, “Or not look!”

 

It had her laughing happily and freely as he left, and she waved at him when his own wave meant it broke the obfuscate a bit too obviously. She gave Beckett a half grin and followed after Sparks as she took her back pack off, shoving the papers in her backpack but for one. The one that had other items for the exhibition and she peered for them in the cargo hold when putting her backpack back on.

 

“You taught him to obfuscate?”

 

Ivy peered back at the surprised man, who was taking her in with great interest. “Yes. We’re in the same boat. Might as well get the best start we can.” She climbed up on a crate to open one on top of it.

 

“A practical view.”

 

“Tradition can be overrated.”

 

“You would not regret it in the future?” He wondered, taking an urn she handed him, looking it over.

 

She turned to him with a frown. “No. We are friends as of this time. I would not regret this when it becomes a memory.”

 

“I can only hope the thought stays that way,” Beckett replied earnestly. “Too often does it not.”

 

“I’m guessing it’s not too often new kindred help each other?”

 

“Indeed no. Most are chosen, and swallowed into their new Clan,” The historian answered, noting the time piece for this was likely Assyrian, and probably nearer the River Tigris. He couldn’t quite recall if this was a style more to the west of the river nearer Turkey, or closer to Iraq. “Do you know where these are from?” He came to the side of the crate she was on, hoping it was on the piece of paper she had.

 

Ivy lay back, holding it up so he could see and she could as well, crossing one leg over another. “This chalice is from Parthia. Huh. What’s it doing so westward when Parthia was east?”

 

“You know history from this era?”

 

“Only what the papers I was reading when you came in said. Might have to look into it more. It’s cool to see things from that area after reading it. Hm.” She looked up at him with a grin, enthused. “I might have to go visit the area now!”

 

“Here.” Beckett smiled, pleased to see a curiosity about such things in another kindred as he passed the urn to her and she put it back, going back into a laying down position. “Perhaps you’ve an archaeologist’s spirit? I would be pleased to take you should you wish to go.”

 

Ivy turned over to lay on her front, astonishment on her face. “You’d do that?”

 

“I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement,” The man said smoothly, making sure not to eye the tops of her breasts that were so prominent in his line of sight. Wouldn’t do to insinuate such things. Or ruin his chances of such things. He was attracted. Greatly. “I too would be quite fond of using obfuscation, for instance.”

 

She approved of everyone using obfuscation, madness making her eyes flash brighter when she twisted to sit on the edge before him, hands between thighs to hold on the crate as she leaned forward. “Sounds good to me!”

 

Beckett lifted a hand, running his fingers along her jawline, holding her chin in his hand, running a thumb over her lower lip. “Indeed so. Think of it as…” He moved away and walked off, saying over his shoulder as he decided on them, “A honeymoon.”

 

Ivy gawked at him. “W-what?!”

 

The Gangrel laughed at her face when he looked at her, flustered as she held onto the chalice tight when she hopped off. “Might want to put that back.”

 

Her head ducked to the gold piece and coughed, jumping up to do so, only to have come back and he’d disappeared.

 

Good.

 

The Scot put a hand to her face, wondering if he was teasing or serious as she went on her way. He wasn’t. Surely not. But then it was kindred. Did they do it different somehow? She shook her head and quickly left the museum, dashing off to the beach where craggy rocks and little hideaways lay, going into her russet wolf form and squeezing into a high but small cave whose mouth was hard to get under but was cavernous enough inside. She’d found it when trying to make it back to Downtown after tracking down some rogue kindred that had frenzied. It was late in the night, maybe 4am, and the sun would be up soon.

 

She’d previously dragged in a pair of old fluffy shag carpets and a slim plastic box filled with blood bags into it to make it liveable for a couple nights, some books for entertainment, and a couple sets of clothing. She had plenty of these little hidey holes around, just in case of emergencies. Like say, being on the run from the sun or fellow kindred. Hm. She really should tell Sparks about these.

 

And not to open the sarcophagus.

 

Damn.

 

She’d tell him in person tomorrow night.

 

The exhausted woman tossed the backpack to the side when she turned human, hiding it right at the back, and then turned wolf once more. She grabbed the top carpet in her mouth and pulled it on her as she curled up into a ball, fluffy tail wrapping over her nose and face. Ah, warmth and comfort, and the soft sound of waves crashing distantly against the shore, the scent of wolf-.

 

Her tail twitched at that, and she peeked out from her makeshift duvets as she heard the rougher scratchings of a bigger wolf trying to come in. He was just about able to shift his mass inside before the light hit. Her head was up, ears perked forward and low, worried. But the white wolf just ruffled his fur out, a bit of singed tail fur marking the only injury from sunlight he had obtained, and simply nosed his way into her pelts. He slumped behind her, curling his bigger body around hers and putting his head over her shoulder blades. It was oddly comforting, though she grumbled. It made him huff in amusement at her lacklustre complaining.

 

Still her eyes closed. She ignored how nice it was to have someone there. She’d been so used to having a full house as a kid with six siblings, and then living in a temple in north China with lots of other practitioners of martial arts kept up the noise levels and family bonds. Kindred society was horrid to her, always so political and untrusting of others. Her mind slowly drifted off.

 

.

 

Ivy slowly woke up, feeling a weight on her she wasn’t quite used to.

 

A frown, but her eyes opened, and she without peeked down, seeing black hair that shined a slight green. Ah. Beckett. Seemed to have made himself right at home on her chest, using her breasts as a pillow. Her lips quirked up for a moment, realising he’d remained curled over her when she’d turned on her back. Her fingers were dug into his hair, but her other hand was flung up above her head and his arms were keeping her against him via her waist. Her thighs were flung over his out thigh, and she was surprisingly comfy in this position. Good thing such as blood circulation was barely a thing in vampiric bodies, as this was so comforting.

 

Enough so that she lightly dozed off again. But not too much that she didn’t shift when he did. The woman watched as the man loomed over her, bold red eyes burning into her own blood red eyes. An odd feeling was between them, the space they were in warm from friction and fur. She wanted it to stay. Didn’t know what this was. Her hands reached up to touch his cheeks, marvelling at him. “I barely know you, but I feel like I’ve spent so much time with you. Is there such a thing as rebirth? Or is this just my Malkavian instincts confusing me?”

 

“Gangrel often are the lone wanderers, but we need pack at certain ages. I’m afraid I may have loosed my instincts on you, covering you with me like so.” He shifted to fully lean on her, forearms on either side of her head. “If you do not wish this, tell me to leave.”

 

“Malk instincts connecting me to the Network, giving me whispers and warning and wants. They like you. I like you. Let’s be pack.”

 

“I had thought you Ravnos with your hallucinations.”

 

“Just good with mind arts. Pack?”

 

“Pack.” Beckett ducked down, slicing his tongue and dropping blood onto the clavicle notch. He swirled his tongue around, focusing his discipline and will, and smiled when his own initial letter appeared, mixing on the handheld broken mirror shards of the Malkav Clan. His instincts settled, pleased. “Be prepared to travel a lot.”

 

“Sounds good to me! So, a night on the town, perhaps?”

 

“Lead on, pup.”

 

Ivy scoffed but did indeed turn back into her wolf form and dash out of the tiny cave.

 

.

 

Sparks raised his brows. “Really?”

 

“Yes, I really can’t stand whatever is in the Sarcophagus. My whispers go mad every time I think about it. So, whatever you do, don’t open it.”

 

The Brujah crossed his arms as the taxi driver drove them to Hollywood. “Damn. I was hoping to see a mummified vampire.”

 

“Bro, we turn to cinders when we get knackered for a second time,” Ivy pointed out, with Beckett chuckling at the two of them. “If there’s still flesh and such, then… that’s a pretty grim end.”

 

“Oh yeah. Still.”

 

“We could always go back to the museum and see if they have any? Or find a different museum?”

 

Sparks perked up. “That’d be cool. Yeah, let’s go museum bouncing until we find a mummy!”

 

“You never seen one?”

 

“You have?”

 

“Yeah? I thought most museums worth their gold did?” She then asked of Beckett, who shrugged and nodded.

 

“We’re also spoilt by our homeland’s museums,” He pointed out from her right side.

 

“Ah, true.” The Scot looked back at her fellow fledgling friend. “We should definitely hit Berlin for museums. There was this area called Museum Island with five museums on it. Oh! Or my friend told me in Tokyo there’s a Ueno Park with a bunch of museums in it, too! We should go to them all.” Ivy grinned at the blond, who nodded back with enthusiasm.

 

Sparks, whose actual name was Jeremiah, grinned back at her. “Man I’m so glad you like museums. Most of my friends just didn’t. History buff?”

 

“Only Chinese, but mythology stuff too. That stuff’s fun. I want to know more, though. Now this Sarcophagus business has come about it’s kind of prompted a new interest. Kindled the kindred,” She laughed out, making Sparks snicker. “Say Beckett, anything you can teach us with disciplines? I could try and get you and Sparks on the Network?”

 

Sparks liked that idea, leaning on Ivy. “I tried hard to learn your Animalism! Look!” His nose turned into a wolf’s snout after he focused hard, and Ivy cheered, clapping him on. He let it pop away. “Not bad for two weeks learning, right?!”

 

Ivy nodded enthusiastically, with Beckett sighing. Well, he might as well teach so the lad wouldn’t harm himself. “Your focus is not enough on the beast, and your energy needs to disseminate more flowingly. You must believe you are the wolf with kindred locked inside,” The Englishman tutored, watching as the fledgling did it again. He nodded. “You see how it flows more? Watch.”

 

The woman looked on as he taught Sparks, pleased. Maybe they could get another in their pack? She truly did adore Sparks.

 

It’s then that she turned to the driver, who was cool as a cucumber and seemingly fine with silently listening. “What Clan are you, driver?”

 

“I am merely the driver.”

 

“So might I try and pry the answer as you drive?” Ivy smiled hopefully, focusing on her Malkavian side. “We would always love to learn-” It’s then she shrieked, holding her head, shoving back and away as molten fear lanced through her. “F-F-FA-!”

 

He growled and she sat in complete stillness.

 

It was a terse few minutes, the two men wondering if they should attack or not, or drag her away out the car, protective.

 

Then Ivy murmured, “S-Sorry, papa. I did not mean to act so unworthy. I should have had more control.” She bowed her upper body.

 

“You are young. I also understand it was not just you.”

 

“The Network, papa. It is hard to feel us all at the same time.”

 

“And these men?”

 

A spark of defiance was in her. “Mine. Pack. To trust and train and travel with, papa.”

 

He was quiet for a moment. “Regardless of Clan?”

 

“There’s barely any Malkavian’s to demand I be Clan loyal only, papa. I’m tied up with my two loose ends here, and happily so.” She smiled lightly, not yet rising up. “More should be, papa.”

 

The driver hummed at that. “Sit back, daughter.”

 

Pleasure flowed in her at the acknowledgement and she realised where they were. “Ah. Hollywood. Say, any advice for your children?”

 

“Stay on as you are.” He pulled up to the side of a main street.

 

“Thank you, papa!” She shooed Beckett out, who went quickly, wanting her behind him and away from that Driver. “See you soon! I’ll make you proud and make sure others do, too!”

 

“Do so.”

 

Ivy waved him away, feeling suddenly exhausted as the vehicle left their view. “That… That was the father.”

 

“Father?” Beckett inquired, putting hand to her back.

 

“Of us all.”

 

“Caine?” Sparks asked, gawping the direction of the yellow cab.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You are certain?” Beckett pushed, almost desperate.

 

“Do you think I act so subservient for anyone? So desperate for dad’s attention and pride? That’s him, papa, Caine. He could be no other. Amazing. We just fooled around in the back of a cab belonging to a man equivalent of a divine creator.” She laughed hollowly.

 

Sparks pat her on the back. “Gods and Sarcophaguses and vampires, oh my!”

 

Ivy laughed breathlessly, leaning on him. “I hope I did not offend papa. He soothes. Is a balm to my mind of madness.” Then she looked around. “Let’s stick to the shadows, my pack.”

 

Agreeing, Beckett silently led the way to Isaac.

 

Exactly what else could this pack of his do to make his mind flip?

 

.

 

Perhaps Beckett should have expected it.

 

But watching LaCroix’s Tower explode before their eyes, Sparks swaggering towards them, and a patient taxi Driver that was their father waiting for them as his favoured and most precious wave them over was not it.

 

Beckett watched as Sparks ignored the anarchs, coming over to enter the cab and squidging Ivy between them in the back.

 

“Let’s… go. Anywhere. Somewhere quiet for a bit.”

 

Himself and Ivy nodded silently with Sparks, who looked like he’d been in the trenches.

 

And so, the four of them ended up in Ivy’s little cave in wolf form, a whole pack, keeping each other warm and tended to under the fluffy blankets, his head over her neck and tail over Caine’s back. He’d never felt so protected, so wanted and loved in his life, and he enjoyed every moment of it. Let there be time for the end of days in the next week, or month or year. He adored this quiet time of theirs. Needed to feel it. Ivy nuzzled his neck, licking him, and he replied with the same, keeping her close with his head. He rumbled out a wolfy growl-purr and all three of them replied the same, making him feel safe.

 

This was.

 

This was good.

 

Who cared what happened right now?

 

With his pack, he could survive Gehenna.

 

Yes.

 

They would teach each other sacred disciplines, Caine would see, and Ivy would be his.

 

But first, onto Turkey.

 

And well, with two excitable fledglings, and one almost semi-god Caine, Beckett was sure to have the time of his life.

 

Ivy turned human when the other two slept, and he replied in the same.

 

He did not expect the hot and heavy kiss she laid on him that had his mind whirring, fulfilling and stirring up hotter depths of his blood.

 

Then she grinned at him and went back to wolf, snuggling into him.

 

A huff, and Beckett followed.

 

When to tell her he adored her?

 

Beckett looked over at a knowing Caine, and huffed. "Leave us to our love, dear father."

 

"I hope only the best for you both."

 

"As do I. Thank you for your blessing." Beckett kissed her fuzzy head, getting a few doggy sounds in reply before her form slipped to human again and he dragged her nearer. "I do adore her." He stroked her side. "Now to wait until she catches up."

 

Caine chuckled. "Malkavian's know. There is only catching up to them."

 

"Ah." Beckett responded.

 

Ivy's sleeping body merely sighed out, turning onto her back, and Beckett nuzzled into her, pleased. A little awake from that, she murmured, "Becksy..."

 

And his heart melted.

 

He'd keep her well protected and loved.

 

Beckett adored her.

 

* * *

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Why not show some likes with a click of a (kudos) button?


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